Spoiled Sweets | Alicia Bruzzone

Generations of a family tree held together with aniseed.


Spoiled Sweets

By Alicia Bruzzone

For The Brevity is What? Award


Great-Grandmother Dawn,
On a warm Christmas morn long past
Beheld onto us a family legacy.
Great Uncle Jim received the present most foul.
In a shiny metal tin was imparted
Liquorice Allsorts bought on clearance a year past.
Thanks were given profusely
Though later the tin was found slipped
betwixt the sofa cushions, ungraciously denied.
The finder could not stand them,
So next year offhanded the aniseed treats.
And so it began, the spiral
Of re-gifting in jest what had been
Provided with love.
Like a lucky dip of life it reappeared,
Tin getting battered with age.
As the rivets began to rust
And Great-Grandmother Dawn left us,
Tradition was salvaged; stolen
Recycling from an elderly neighbours bin.
Appearing now in date, though the
Icing cracked and liquorice shrivelled
In the tarnished plastic bag.
Overtaken by age, the box was discarded.
Aunt Carol boiled a preserve jar,
Crystal elegance for the contaminated sweets.
Gingham fabric edged with lace embraced
The lid elegantly, contrasting
The bedraggled contents.
Now a symbol of
Surviving, of besting the odds,
The Liquorice Allsorts arose more
Than a game. Their colour dulled,
Reclaimed by an array of nail painted shades.
And memory of all lived on.